All Things Must Pass
by whirlyite
Summary: Please indulge me on this one, as it springs from something quite personal.  I hope you find it entertaining.  This is a companion/continuance of 'God Save the King' that is a oneshot for now  but could possibly be expanded upon in future .


**All Things Must Pass**

_Lovingly dedicated to Rosebud, aka Her Serene Diva, Goddess of All She Surveys (Glamour Puss) 1994-2010_

8 December 1952

"Mave d'ya remember the little moggy what adopted us when we were youngsters?" Peter had to pause to catch his breath even after that short sentence. He swallowed hard, successfully squelching a coughing fit.

A voice wafted in from the kitchen. "Mavis please try to keep your brother quiet. He refuses to admit how sick he is."

Mavis shrugged her shoulders. "I'll try Jo. You know as well I do who we're dealin' with 'ere!" She turned to Peter, who was reclining on the sofa in front of a roaring fireplace. Despite the comforting heat it provided, he was wrapped in blankets.

"You 'eard the boss Peter!" She sat next to him and put her hand on his forehead. "Jo I think 'is temperature is finally comin' down."

"Dunno Mave…I'm…still...cold." He shivered as he spoke.

She reached around and tucked another blanket tightly around him. "There ya go Peter. Just rest for now, okay?" Truth be told, she was really worried about him. This was the fourth day of the worst pea souper London had ever seen; the newspapers were already calling it the 'Big Smoke'. Peter had come down with a severe cold that had migrated down into his chest soon after the smog descended. It certainly didn't help that he had bad lungs to begin with, thanks to the pneumonia that had very nearly killed him at the end of the war. Jo had worriedly confided to her that he would have to go to hospital if he got any worse. Mavis had come round to help out at Jo's request, since she had her hands full with not only tending a sick husband, but also with looking after their two sons, five-year old Robbie and eleven month old Andrew.

"I sure miss me boys." Peter stared forlornly into the fire. They had decided that day to send the boys to stay with Jo's mum and dad until Peter's health improved. Mavis gently grasped Peter's chin and turned his face toward her.

"You don't want them gettin' sick, now do ya?"

Peter shook his head. "No Mave. I know it's for the best but I can still miss 'em can't I?" He coughed deeply and painfully, finally unable to hold it back. It sounded bad.

"Of course ya can." Mavis nodded and gently patted her brother's shoulder. It still amazed her that he had turned out to be such a good husband and father. He loved his family more than life itself. "But we need ya to stop talkin' so much Peter. Yer lungs can't take it right now."

He nodded sadly. Jo came in with a tray laden with hot tea, biscuits and medication. She sat on the couch at Peter's feet, then poured a cuppa for each of them and gave Peter his medicine. He made a face as he swallowed it.

"Aargh darlin'! Tea please! Gotta get this taste outta me mouth!"

She passed it carefully. "Mind the cup love, it's hot!"

Peter gulped his tea heedlessly, trying to get the noxiousness of the cough syrup out of his taste buds, even if it meant burning them off with hot tea. He glanced at his wife over the rim of his cup. "Could I 'ave a biscuit please?" he asked in a small voice.

Jo smiled as she passed the plate. He looked and sounded for all the world like a little boy. Mavis shared a knowing look with her. Isn't that what a sick adult male usually regresses to anyway?

He looked reproachfully at his wife and then his sister. "What are ya laughin' at? I can see you lot 'ave no respect for the sick."

Jo put her hands on her hips in mock indignation. "Really, mister? May I remind you that I am a nurse? And may I also remind you that you are not to be talking? Mavis what are we going to do with him?" She leaned over, kissed him softly and whispered, "I know what I'd _like_ to do with you, so please hurry and get well my love."

Peter gazed at her affectionately then kissed her in return. "My sentiments exactly darlin'." Jo sighed and leaned back before they embarrassed themselves in front of Mavis.

"What brought the lil' moggy to yer mind Peter?"

Peter looked over at Jo, who answered Mavis' question. "There's a little brittle calico coming round now and Robbie's taken a liking to it. We were thinking about letting him keep it."

"'e's an animal lover just like 'is da, eh?"

Peter smiled wanly. "Guilty as charged." During his time as a POW in Stalag 13, he had always teased Andrew Carter about his tendency to rescue stray animals, never admitting that he himself was always a sucker for a hard luck case. Perhaps it was because he knew what it was like to be cast out onto the street. "People have choices Mave. Animals don't; they're at our mercy and mercy is what they deserve."

_My brother the philosopher!_ thought Mavis warmly.

"So Mave, what happened with the little moggy?" asked Jo. Peter had told her about he and Mavis' stark childhoods when they first decided they were serious about each other. He rarely spoke of it nowadays and she seized on every opportunity she could to learn more about her husband. She felt that there was a large part of his life he purposely kept from her, namely, his time spent captive during the war. She didn't push him on that though and was content to collect little tidbits of knowledge about him where she could.

"Well, like Peter said it kinda adopted us instead of the other way 'round. It would show up when we needed it the most." She stopped and looked over at Peter for confirmation as to whether or not she had his permission to continue. He looked up from his tea and inclined his head in a short nod. Mavis smiled and continued.

"Cor! It was a darlin' lil' thing. Never seen a moggy like that before - kinda fancy. It must've belonged to someone with scratch, cuz it was fat and sassy. We never could figure out what it was doin' in the East End. Musta gotten lost or somethin'."

"Siamese." Peter put in quietly.

"What was that dear?" Jo reached over to gently smooth his hair back from his forehead, surreptitiously checking his fever. He knew what she was doing and took her hand, kissing its palm.

"I said it was a Siamese, with long 'air. A real beaut. Not yer typical East End mog."

Mavis nodded. "It took a shine to Peter right away. And the other way around I might add. It first came the night when…" she faltered and took a breath to steady herself.

"Mave..?" Peter reached over to her.

"I'll be alright in a mo'. I 'aven't talked about this to anyone before Peter. Are ya sure ya want me to go on?"

"I know love, I know." He patted her hand and then gave her a wink. "Yes I'm sure. Go ahead when yer ready."

She nodded and continued. "It first came to us the night Da nearly beat Peter to death."

Jo sucked in her breath with a horrified gasp and looked over at her husband. He gave her a rueful smile and nodded his head, confirming Mavis' words. "Oh Peter! I don't know…what to say…I'm so sorry!"

"Thanks love." He kissed her hand again and held it tight. "It's alright. Really, it is. I made me peace with it a long time ago. Go on Mave."

"I don't remember all the details. I was real young at that time. I don't even know why 'e did it!"

"'e never needed a reason Mave." Peter stared into the firelight and held Jo's hand next to his cheek.

"Da stormed out the front door, cursin' a blue streak. I ran into Peter's room and found 'im lyin' on the floor. Blood was pourin' from 'is nose and ears. I didn't know what to do."

"Mavis, where was your mum when all this was going on?" Jo was stunned.

"She worked most every day and even some nights. Da never did much to support us."

Peter snorted. "'e was too busy gettin' 'isself rat arsed while mum worked 'erself to death."

"Peter!"

"Sorry darlin'. Can't varnish the truth." He looked at her with an embarrassed smile. "Guess it's a good thing the boys aren't 'ere, eh?"

"I should say so! Please tell me that you at least _try_ to watch your language around them?"

"You've no need to worry darlin'. The last thing I want is for me boys to grow up to be like me."

"That's not what I meant love. I do want our sons to be like you."

"I know what you meant..." he broke off into another coughing fit and had trouble regaining his breath afterwards. Jo hurried into the kitchen and brought back a bowl of cold water. She soaked a hand towel in it, then wrung it out and placed it on Peter's forehead.

"Close your eyes and rest love. Let Mavis finish telling the story."

He nodded, audibly wheezing with each difficult breath. Jo shot a worried glance at Mavis. "Go ahead Mavis." She took Peter's hand in both of hers and gently massaged it.

"I tried to clean as much of the blood off of 'im as I could. 'e was unconscious and I couldn't lift 'im. So I put a pillow under 'is 'ead and spread a blanket over 'im. Then I lay down beside 'im cryin' and beggin' 'im to wake up. I was so afraid 'e was gonna die."

Peter began coughing again and Mavis looked sadly at Jo. He raised his other hand and gestured to his sister. "Go on Mave. I'll be…right as rain…in a minute," he whispered. Jo nodded skeptically as she refreshed the cool towel on his forehead.

"Well as I was sayin', I was scared to death me older brother was gonna die right there. I bowed me 'ead and prayed 'arder than I ever 'ave, askin' God to please let me brother live. Then I 'eard a noise from the window, a mewlin' sound. I looked up and there was the moggy! Like Peter said, it was the most beautiful cat I'd ever seen. It jumped off the sill and curled right up on Peter's chest, purrin' like a Thames motor launch."

"I'll remember that…for the rest of me life…" came a labored whisper from beneath the cool cloth. Jo squeezed Peter's shoulder, silently reminding him to keep quiet.

"I will too brother. I think it saved yer life that night."

"I know…it..did.." he wheezed. Jo reminded him yet again. "Okay sweetheart…"

"I woke up when mum came in and lifted Peter off the floor. The moggy was gone. Mum took care of Peter and he woke up later that day. She confronted Da and 'e lied, told 'er Peter 'ad fallen and 'urt 'imself while roughhousin' in 'is room. She knew 'e was lyin' and never forgave 'erself for not bein' there to protect 'im."

"Wasn't…'er fault…" another whisper followed by deep, rending coughing. Jo grimaced at the sound.

"It was the strangest thing. The lil' moggy turned up every time Da put us through 'ell, but especially when 'e beat Peter. It was like it…like it…_knew_ when we needed some kind of 'elp. Then after Mum died, Da kicked Peter outta the 'ouse. We never saw the moggy again."

Jo softly patted Peter's shoulder and shook her head. She knew about his life on the streets after being thrown out of his home. She couldn't imagine how he had managed to rise above all of this, but thanked God he had. She loved him with all her heart and knew that he felt the same about her. He was a good husband and a wonderful father.

Mavis mused aloud. "I wonder why we never saw it again?"

She had to lean down to hear her brother's painful whisper. "Because…it 'ad done its job. You get comfort…from the…strangest places…when you really need it. Trust…me…I…know." He had learned that lesson in hindsight. He remembered all the instances where he had received unexpected comfort during the war, especially when he needed it most. From his mate Freddie as he lay dying in his arms. From his mates at Stalag 13. From the German civilians who fought against their own government in the Underground. From, of all people, the German guard who was in charge of their barracks. And even more surprising, from a lonely German widow grieving the loss of her only son at Stalingrad. Even right down to this day, he found the comfort he so desperately needed within his little family. He couldn't begin to express his gratitude to Jo for her unconditional love and the incalculably precious gift of his two sons. Plus he had the love and support of his sister, who was the only other person who knew first-hand the hell that had been their childhood. Yet despite all that, he counted himself as one very fortunate bloke.

"Peter, please try to close your eyes and sleep. Please?" Jo leaned down and gently caressed his cheek. "I don't want to have to put you in hospital. I want you to rest so you can get well. Please darling?"

He nodded, finally defeated. "Thanks…Mave..for the…memory." Speaking those five words took the last of his breath for now. He closed his eyes as Jo put a fresh cool cloth on his forehead. He soon felt himself slipping into a welcomed sleep. Yes, he decided, you do get comfort when you need it most. You just have to recognize it for what it is and embrace it before it leaves your grasp.


End file.
